Harry's Dream
by fanfictionisworthit
Summary: Harry never went to Hogwarts at 11. At 13 now, he's having strange dreams, telling him what his life should have been. But he scowls and tells himself that magic isn't real. Two weeks after his 13th birthday, he goes to London and gets quite a surprise. AU
1. Chapter 1

Harry sat up in his bed in the cupboard, panting. At only 13 years of age, he scowled bitterly. It felt like the millionth time he had this dream. Beautiful nightmare, it seemed more like.

"Magic is not real. If it would be, I would be out of this hellhole a long time ago, just like that goddamn dream says," he muttered to himself. He got dressed clumsily; the cupboard was getting rather small for a 13 year old.

Now, the dream was very specific. It said that when he was eleven, he got a letter to go to a magical school, and Hagrid, an enormous man, came to deliver the news personally because his uncle, Vernon Dursley, was stopping the letters from getting in his hands. After that, time rushed by. He went to this school, named Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had two best friends, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Ron had flaming red hair and was tall and lanky, just like his two older twin brothers, Fred and George. They were identical, not a freckle apart, with the same flaming red hair. In fact, the whole family had the hair. Hermione, on the other hand, had bushy brunette hair and large front teeth. She was also very smart. They were in the same 'house' at Hogwarts, meaning they shared a tower and each dorm was shared by five girls or boys. Harry had also managed to make an enemy. Draco Malfoy was his name, with blond hair, so blond, in fact, that it was almost white. Glassy gray eyes that smirked along with his lips.

However, this was just the first part, and the most important part was that when he was a baby, he got the scar that lay upon his forehead from an evil wizard who killed both his parents, and tried to kill him, but the spell reflected and he was killed instead, leaving only the scar on Harry. This evil wizard's name was Voldemort, but everyone called him You-Know-Who because they were scared to say Voldemort for fear that they might curse themselves.

Harry was snapped out of his thoughts by his Uncle Vernon's barking at him.

"You worthless boy, can't you hurry up with that breakfast? I'm hungry, and so is Dudley!" Vernon yelled. Both Vernon and Harry's cousin, Dudley, resembled pigs more and more each year, barely fitting in their chairs.

Harry quickly finished the breakfast and set it on platters and got it to his uncle, aunt, Petunia, and cousin. He sighed, sitting down and gulping down his measly meal.

"What are you sighing about? Had a bad dream?" his cousin mocked him, mouth full.

"No, actually, it was really nice. I was a wizard and got away from all of you to go to a magical school. In fact, if you were wondering, it was my 13th birthday two weeks ago, and I haven't heard a word," Harry snapped, immediately regretting it. He expected Uncle Vernon to beat the living soul out of him now. But his uncle just growled and looked away.

"Well, then, it's your lucky day, I can't leave you alone, and we have to go to London. It is confidential business, don't you even ask, boy," Vernon barked. "So you're coming with us."

Harry nodded. Later, they all piled into the van, and drove to London. Harry had the biggest surprise of his life when they got out and Uncle Vernon gave him some money and told him to be off, but to be back at the car before 10 o'clock that evening. Harry nodded eagerly and set off. He looked at London with wide eyes. It was magnificent, and people were stumbling everywhere. It was all Harry could ever hope for, to see this. Mindlessly, he bumped into someone. He turned to see who it was.

His soul went cold and he couldn't even scream as much as he wanted. The boy he had bumped into was an exact replica of that boy from his dream, Draco Malfoy, from the blond hair to the gray eyes to the look in general. What was even worse was his father, who was standing beside him. The boy, just like Draco, was an exact mini replica of his father. Lucius Malfoy, in his dream, the father of Draco, hated Harry with a burning passion and wanted to murder him just as much as Voldemort, who he was the loyal servant to.

He let out a squeak and his hand flew to his forehead to cover his scar. The boy and man looked at him curiously.

"Are-are you alright?" the boy asked, looking him up and down curiously. Harry was still staring at the man cautiously, prepared to bolt at any time. The man frowned.

"Is something wrong?" the man asked, seemingly worried. Harry reminded himself that it had been a dream, and these were just regular people. He let out a breath and uncovered his scar.

"I'm truly sorry, you just reminded me of some people I know. I don't really have a friendly relationship with them," Harry apologized.

"The name is Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," the boy said, sticking out his hand for Harry to shake. Harry let out a shaky breath before everything went black and the ground came rushing up to meet him.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry woke up in a white room, staring at the blindingly tacky white ceiling. He groaned and closed his eyes again, trying not to focus on the throbbing headache that he was experiencing. Not to even mention that his scar was searing in burning pain. He could vaguely hear whisper yelling in the hallway, and he realized that he was in a hospital.

How had he gotten here? Last he remembered, his living nightmare had turned terribly quickly into reality, something that was just too overwhelming for his already aching brain to think about. He focused in on the voices in the hallway, trying to catch what they were saying.

"He is your nephew! How in living hell could you just let him wander like that?! He looks afraid of his own shadow! We merely bumped into the boy, and he looked like he had gone through hell and back!"

Harry's breath hitched. That was Lucius Malfoy's voice. Low, angry, and most of all…dangerous. Harry's only thought was how Satan would be most likely cowering in the corner at a tone like that. Only thing was…it was in Harry's defense, and not the other way around, as he had expected it to be.

"That boy is worthless to me and my wife and my child, living with that constant threat on our hands! He should be scared of you folk, you're no good, and I will not be plagued with such monsters! If you care to keep him, go ahead and do so, I will be much happier anyways! Train him with your ways, and keep him chained for all I care, treat him like the mutt he is!" Uncle Vernon's voice rumbled.

Harry could imagine the scene. Uncle Vernon, red in the face, his beady eyes bulging right out of his head, along with that vein on the top of his head throbbing with his anger. He could imagine Vernon clenching his fists at his sides so tightly that they were turning white, just like the numerous times when Harry had done something wrong. What followed were blows, after blows, after blows. And then Harry could imagine Lucius Malfoy standing there, lips curled tight, blowing hot air out of his nose, attempting and failing to keep his cool, as Harry had seen him do so many times in his dream. Although this was not the Lucius Malfoy that was in his dream with the long, billowing, black cloak and dangerous, malicious smirk on his face that Draco could mimic with too much ease. This Lucius Malfoy wore jeans, and a nicely fitting t-shirt, although still obviously showing off, as the dream said. And he carried a tired, worn-out look.

"I may as well keep him, you filthy muggles! And I am the one that is worth nothing! Hpmh! I shall go check on the boy that means so much to this entire world, population, and may as well be universe! Harry Potter, the one who defeated You-Know-Who, the Boy-Who-Lived is worth a lot, and I will not let him die because of you waste of human beings!"

Harry heard footsteps nearing the room and turned over on his other side, feeling already exhausted from simply staying awake. His surprise couldn't be masked when he looked over and saw Draco curled up into a little ball, fast asleep, in the chair next to the bed. Harry, however, closed his eyes as he heard Lucius near the bed.

He felt Lucius gently touch his shoulder and shake him slightly.

"Harry?" Lucius asked quietly. Harry opened his eyes and looked at Lucius, who was towering over him above the bed. And suddenly, it wasn't so scary to be in his presence anymore.

"Yes?" he replied, studying Lucius now.

"How are you feeling?" Lucius asked.

"I'm alright. My head hurts, and my scar does too, but I'll be alright, I always am ok," he said, turning to face Lucius completely now.

"Your Uncle doesn't seem to be too upset that you are in a hospital," Lucius said, furrowing his eyebrows. He sat in the chair on his side of the bed, his eyes drowning Harry in worry.

"No, I think he's upset that I didn't die," Harry said, crossing his arms and looking down at them.

"Listen, Harry, a 13 year old wizard like you shouldn't be faced with this, but…I'm going to at least temporarily take you away and let you live in my house for a while. I feel like your uncle is a threat to your well being, and judging by the bruises on your arms, it's just confirmation for me."

Harry let out a squeak, only now realizing that he wasn't wearing his sweatshirt. The doctors must have taken it off when he got here.

"I don't mind, really, but…Can I ask how I got here?" he asked, although he was certain that Lucius and Draco had brought him here.

"I brought you myself," Lucius responded. "And if you'll observe, Draco refused to leave you by yourself for a minute."

"I've seen. Thank you, anyways. Um…Mr. Malfoy?"

"Call me Lucius. And yes?"

"Can you help me sit up? I feel weak and I can barely think straight. How come I have such a headache? I mean, I've fainted before, but…it's never hurt this long. And I've hit concrete too."

"I don't know, really, but I think it's from a shock. You said Draco and I remind you of some people. May I ask whom?" Lucius asked, offering a hand to pull Harry up. Harry took the offer and sat up painfully.

"Well, I know you'll call me crazy, but you were in my dream. It's more like _the_ dream, I keep having it. Anyways, in it, you really hated me, and you were trying to kill me. You always wore a black cloak, and you had this…stare…that bore into anyone's soul. It was full of hatred and nothing but coldness. And Draco, well, you could say that in my dream, he was my nemesis, and he always wore this smirk and was always trying to best me, no matter what. It's strange, really. But you aren't like that at all, and neither is he, but…I'm just confused," Harry explained quickly.

Lucius nodded thoughtfully, listening closely. After about a half an hour of talk and explaining, they gently woke Draco up, who smiled groggily at Harry.

"Hey, I'm glad you didn't die. I mean, I know I have charm, but it's usually the girls who faint," he teased, his voice low and husky. Harry laughed along with him, but Draco's voice had sent shivers shooting up his spine.

Draco and Lucius took Harry to the Malfoy Manor and showed him what would be his room. It was elegant and the theme was a dark crimson, and with medieval French accents. Then, they took him to meet Narcissa and introduced him.

"I'm really honored to be here, thank you for accepting me, even for just a while," Harry said, bowing his head for her.

Narcissa looked at him, studying him with soft eyes. She reached out and gingerly touched his scar, before her eyes flooded with tears and she turned. She ran down the hall and shut herself in a room. Harry felt his heart crumbling to pieces. What had he done wrong?

But he was confused. If he had done wrong, why hadn't she struck him? He was used to being hit when he did something that his uncle didn't like.

Suddenly, a mirror near him, hanging in the hall, burst into millions of shards. He stumbled away from it, looking at the mess, horrified. Many things like these had happened recently, when he was really sad or really upset especially.

He looked at Draco and Lucius with fear. What would they do now?

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. These things happen, I'm sorry!" he said, and then dashed off to his room without waiting for an answer from either one.

He cried himself to sleep, not bothering to turn around when someone walked into the room and pulled him into their arms, curling up next to him. He fell asleep, crying, but with a warm feeling of safety hovering above him.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry woke up the next morning with sunlight pouring in through his windows. The person who had comforted him, or at least attempted to, was gone. He groggily got up and went to the bathroom. _His_ bathroom, which was connected to the room. He showered cautiously, and then looked around for his clothes. The house-elves must have taken them.

He looked into his room and found a new pair of trousers and a mint green button down shirt. He got dressed quickly and then wandered out of the room.

Observing closely the strange paintings and other works of art hanging in the halls, he noticed the mirror he had broken the night before. It was mended, and it looked like nothing had ever happened.

"Are you alright?" Draco's voice rang out behind Harry and he nearly jumped out of his own skin. He turned and nodded, with a small smile.

"I'm alright. These clothes feel…well…rather strange and formal, but the house elves took my normal clothes," Harry admitted.

"Oh, I told them to take and wash your clothes, and anyways, they were too baggy. I'm quite surprised that my clothes fit you so well," Draco replied, coolly.

Harry felt his ears get hot. Why did the thought of wearing Draco's clothes please him so much? He simply shrugged.

"I'm just as surprised as you are," Harry put in, and then stood silent, many thoughts running through his head.

"Shall we go to breakfast?" Draco asked, gesturing to the nearby spiraling staircase that led downstairs. Harry nodded, and they walked down the stairs, which seemed endless, their bedrooms were on the fourth floor!

When they got to the kitchen, there was a table that could fit at least 8 people and enough food to feed just that many. Lucius and Narcissa were waiting for them there, sitting down. Draco sat across from his father, while Harry sat down across Narcissa. She gave him a warm smile.

"I'm terribly sorry about last night, there's a lot that you don't realize that happens in this family," she said. Lucius sighed softly, looking down at the table.

"It's not like I chose to," Lucius said quietly.

"I know, Lucius, but it's torn me apart. I don't think you understand," Narcissa spat sourly at her husband.

"You know what? You act like I chose to marry you," Lucius venomously retorted.

Narcissa stood up from the table, shooting one final glare at her husband and then walked around the table. She pressed her lips to Harry's forehead, and then walked away, as if the other two never even existed.

Harry looked down, scared of what Lucius and Draco might say. Why had Narcissa ignored her own son?

"Harry, I don't want you to worry about it," Lucius said, before he hid his face in his hands. He wasn't crying, but he seemed very upset in general.

"How can I not worry? Why did she care about me and not her son?" Harry asked, unable to control his tongue.

"I'm not her son. Well, not technically. She didn't give birth to me. My real mother was thrown out of Father's and my life," Draco sighed, spilling everything all at once.

Harry almost choked on air. "I'm so sorry, I…I have no words for this."

"Don't be. I wouldn't want to be that bitch's son anyways," Draco said coldly. The part of him that was in Harry's dream was emerging. And his suspicions with Draco's problems with Lucius proved wrong, it was with Narcissa.

"Don't bring up Stella, Draco, you know how I feel about talking about her."

"It's not like she's dead! You could find her, you know!" Draco spat, getting up himself. Draco left, leaving Harry with Lucius, whom was almost in tears.

Harry couldn't move away, he stood horrified at how damaged the family was.

"Lu-Lucius? Are you alright? H-how can I help?" he asked.

"Harry, don't worry about me, I'm fine. You may go. Practice spells if you so wish in the library."

"I don't…I don't know how to…"

"Oh…yes. You don't have a wand. Ask Draco to take you by the floo to get you a wand."

Harry stood, leaving and hurrying up the kitchen. He ran up to his room, and then went along the hallway, looking in doors to find Draco's. Each room had a different color theme. The violet one was one of the most beautiful rooms Harry had ever seen, with large windows that could be opened to a small balcony on the roof. The balcony resembled marble, and the room itself was violet accented with white. It was Victorian era themed, and the wood was carved into graceful patterns. There was a sense of curiosity that splashed over Harry, but he cautiously stepped out of the room, pulling the door closed.

The next room was Draco's. It was washed with Gryffindor colors. Crimson and gold accents. Draco sat, curled up, on his bed, tears running down his cheeks. Harry walked forward, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Draco…?"

"Yes, Harry?" Draco asked in reply, his voice shaking.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked.

"She's my mother, you know. And he acts like it only affected him. You try growing up with a woman that you have to call your mother in public but you really know that she's not and never will try," Draco said, wiping his eyes.

"I grew up with no parents at all. And I grew up as a servant to my aunt and uncle. They hit me when I did something wrong, you know," Harry said.

Draco looked at Harry with big, sad eyes. "I'm sorry. I guess you do have it worse," he admitted.

"Your father said that you should take me shopping for a wand by the floo. Could you?" Harry decided to spit it out. Draco nodded.

"Alright."

Draco showed him how to use the floo, and thankfully, Harry got to Diagon Alley in one piece.

Draco then took him to Ollivander's. It was a tricky process to find the right wand for Harry, he sent a lot of things smashing and shattering, but Ollivander didn't seem to mind, he just chuckled. It was interesting to Ollivander that Harry's wand turned out to be the twin core of the one that Voldemort had, or used to have at least.

People gaped at Harry everywhere he went in Diagon Alley; he was, after all, famous. He wasn't used to all the attention, but he didn't really mind it either. And then he saw a girl with bushy brunette hair, who was carrying a bunch of books.

"Hermione!" Harry called out, and she turned her head towards him and Draco.

"You know Granger?" Draco muttered to Harry.

"Well…from my dream."

She stalked over to Harry and Draco.

"What do you want?" she snapped.

"Hermione…I'm Harry. Harry Potter," Harry introduced himself.

"I don't care. You're with Malfoy. Don't talk to me as long as you stand near that ridiculous, bigoted excuse for a human being," she snarled, and then turned and walked away, her nose in the air.

"I-I'm sorry, Draco. I didn't mean that to happen."

"It's fine, she's a bitch," Draco said.

They went back to the manor, and then spent time until midnight simply conversing in Draco's room about useless things, gossip mostly. Then, Harry got up and started heading back to his own room. He passed by the violet room. The door was closed.

An overwhelming curiosity about the room struck Harry. He carefully opened the door, very quietly. He closed the door behind him, keeping his wand lit, as Draco had taught him. He sat down on the bed, and very silently opened the drawer from the nightstand on the right of the bed. There was a photo album, surrounded by other things. Harry picked up the photo album, and opened it.

Surprise gripped his heart, and he almost dropped the photo album when he saw the picture on the first page.


	4. Chapter 4

The picture that sat there on the first page was of a man with rowdy black hair and crooked glasses, the same ones that Harry wore. The woman standing next to him with wild red hair and piercing green eyes held a baby boy, with the same emerald eyes and a mop of black hair. The man and woman were both laughing and looking at each other occasionally. The picture was moving, of course, as they did in the magical world. The baby boy cooed and held onto his mother.

The picture was titled '_Lily, James, and Harry Potter_' underneath it in fancy cursive writing.

Harry gently ran his fingers over the picture of his mother and father. He felt a couple tears running down his cheeks, and only then did it hit him painfully. It was all real. And his parents had been murdered by a dark lord, while he had survived and defeated the dark lord.

Harry flipped the page to find pictures of many people. There was the young couple of Molly and Arthur Weasley, the parents of Ron and his six other siblings. And there was Frank and Alice Longbottom, the parents of Neville. Many couples, and a few single people, one of them Severus Snape. He would later become Professor Snape, whom everyone hated, at Hogwarts. When Harry got to the last page, he suddenly understood the whole conflict of the Malfoy family.

Lucius stood there, beaming, at no more than 17 or 18 years old, with his arm around a girl the same age. She had dirty blonde hair and a murky green shade of eyes. She had a slight baby bump that she rested her hand on. She was beaming as well, her other arm around Lucius's waist. She rested her head on his shoulder. Hearts were scrawled all over the page, and on the bottom, the title wrote '_Lucius and Estella Malfoy_'. And he noticed the golden ring on Lucius's left hand, although Estella's was hidden because her hand was around his waist.

Harry closed the album and set it down next to him on the bed. He looked in the drawer again. He picked up a small navy blue velvet box. Harry's breath hitched in his throat when he saw the ring in the box. It was a ruby in the shape of a heart, surrounded by small diamonds. He closed the box and set it on top of the album on the bed. He dug around a little more, finding random objects, such as a golden compass, which probably meant a lot to the relationship. He found a stack of pictures, the first one capturing his attention.

It was Lucius and Estella again, but Estella held an approximately two year old boy with white-blonde hair, and Lucius held a boy the same age as the other, but this one had a mop of dirty blonde hair on his head. They all seemed happy, like a real family. Did Draco have a twin? This seemed very strange to Harry, but it also seemed nice, and warm. He flipped through the rest of the pictures, but they were all Lucius and Estella, and it was before the babies, or at least when Estella was early in the pregnancy.

Harry put the pictures and objects back into the drawer. He was so overwhelmed by all of these discoveries that he decided to just go to bed for now, and explore the next day. The room had gone a deathly cold, and he hurried out, his wand illuminating the way to his own room. He changed as quickly as he could and then went to sleep.

He woke up in the morning early, and got ready, new clothes awaiting him. He rushed over to Draco's room, entering quietly. Draco was up, and looked up at Harry when he walked in.

"You have a twin?" Harry couldn't stop himself.

"Yes…I actually do. How did you know?"

"It…it was in my dream," Harry said quickly.

"Oh. Well, come and sit down," Draco beckoned. Harry sat down next to Draco on the bed.

"What will happen when you go back to Hogwarts?" Harry asked Draco suddenly. He didn't want Draco to leave.

"Well, obviously you have to come with me," Draco said, sounding astonished that Harry didn't know.

"Oh, good. I get to finally see Hogwarts in real life," Harry said. He and Draco talked for another while, before he went off to explore the manor. He ended up in the library, and found it lovely. He was surrounded by wizard books, along with muggle ones.

Harry found a book titled '_Wishes and Dreams of a Teenage Boy_'. It was written by Lucius Malfoy himself. It was all sorts of things that Lucius wanted to reach. And he did accomplish most of them. He did marry Estella. He did have kids with her. He did have a son, especially. He did end up working for Hogwarts in a way, and he did find happiness, for a while anyways.

"Why are you reading that?" Lucius's voice rang out, in front of Harry. Harry dropped the book, his heart racing and he gasped for breath. Lucius had scared him, badly.

"It…it seemed appealing," Harry got out, closing the book. He had been reading the section on Estella.

"Out of this whole library, my failed excuse at life seemed most appealing?" Lucius laughed.

"Well, yes. Actually, you accomplished most of these things. You married Estella, you had twins with her, and they were both boys," Harry said, getting up.

"How'd you know that?" Lucius asked, surprised.

"Well, to tell you the truth, I was really curious about that one room on the 4th floor that's themed violet, and so I went through some of the stuff. I'm terribly sorry, but it just…called me."

"Ah, yes, that room. That used to be my room when I was still married to Estella. Well, our room. I still keep much from my past marriage. I certainly believe you're curious how we split up. We were forced. My parents found out that she was half-blood, and even worse, she was a Gryffindor. So yes, Draco is a half-blood. And I was forced to marry that whore, Narcissa," he said, his eyes darkening with anger as he mentioned the name of his current wife. "And everyone was told that Draco was Narcissa's son."

"What happened to the other twin?" Harry asked, frowning.

"Jared? Well, Estella took him with her to America."

After this short discussion with Lucius, Harry wandered out of the library, only to meet Narcissa. She pulled him into a tight hug, smiling.

"Can I ask you a question?" Harry asked her.

"Well, of course," she responded.

"Did you know that you were splitting Estella and Lucius?" he asked. Narcissa went silent; her smile had fallen into a scowl.

"Yes, and I'm glad I did," she said, and then walked away.

Harry spent the rest of the day walking around the manor, and then as night fell, he walked out into the gardens, only to find Draco sitting there, laying sprawled on the grass. He was looking at the stars.

It was a full moon, and Harry lay down next to Draco, wordlessly.

"There's this girl, I can feel it. And I already know I love her," Draco started.

Harry had never felt more jealous than at that moment. He didn't know why, but he simply wanted to murder the girl, whoever she might be. Why was Draco so determined? Who was she?

"Who is she?" Harry asked him, his voice staying casual.

"I don't know. I see her in my dreams. She has gold eyes," he responded.

The next half hour, they spent silently watching the stars winking at them.

Draco then got up, and went inside the house, not a word uttered.

Harry went inside the house, and heard voices from the kitchen. He decided to creep around and listen. He listened quietly to the conversation between Lucius and Narcissa.

"I want that boy out of here!" Narcissa whisper-yelled.

"Why? What has Harry done?"

"He knows too much! And what's worse, he's plaguing this household by worrying for poor, little Estella," Narcissa's voice mocked.

"You know what? You can shut your arse up! Let him worry about her, because it's not worth worrying about you!"

"What did you just say?!"

"You're a worthless bitch!" Lucius yelled, and Harry heard angry footsteps walking away.

"Then take yourself and your son, and that worthless, goody savior of the world, and get out of my life!" Narcissa yelled after him.

Harry slid down the wall, tears spilling over his eyes. He sat, curled up, staring into the darkness.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Narcissa growled, towering over him.

Oh. Shit.


	5. Chapter 5

"I'm just…I'm sorry," Harry said quietly.

"Get to bed, boy," Narcissa snapped.

"I'm not tired," Harry whispered.

"Get, boy," Narcissa barked again, pulling him up. "I am not afraid to make you move."

"I'm used to it."

"If you dare hit him, Narcissa, you will pay for it yourself," Lucius's voice rang out from behind.

Narcissa growled, but forcefully let go of Harry. He scampered up to his room, tears blurring his vision. He thought it would be different when he came here, but it really wasn't that alien.

Instead of going to his room, which is what he meant to do, he ran straight into Draco's room, curling up next to him on his bed.

"What's wrong, mate?" Draco asked groggily. Obviously he had been asleep.

"I…I just…she threatened to hit me. And…I thought that it'd be all different…but people still want to hit me…I'm not a punching bag, Draco. I'm sorry that I'm crying on your shoulder."

"Hey, hey, it's quite alright. You can tell me," Draco said, sitting up.

Harry didn't say anything more, but pressed his face into Draco's pillow, crying again.

Draco curled around him, whispering soothing things. Harry soon fell asleep and he only dreamed of Draco. Everything about Draco. From the way that his white-blond hair fell into his smoky gray eyes sometimes to his smile.

When Harry woke the next day, he felt hot and sticky. He went to his own room and showered and then came out into the hall. It was exactly a week until the first day of Hogwarts, and he couldn't say that he wasn't excited.

However, he didn't do anything or say anything; he just slipped into the violet room, and began exploring it again. Again, a chilly air surrounded Harry, but he shrugged it off this time, closing the door behind him.

He quickly went to the bookcase and found a journal. It was obviously Estella's, by the fancy lettering and the wording. Every now and then, she signed with 'Stell Malfoy.'

There were a couple pictures stuck in between the pages. The first one was of her and Lucius, kissing. The other one was of her and the two boys. They were toddlers. Draco was easy to identify right away, no problem with that. Jared, Harry thought that was his name, had the same eyes that Estella did. He was very similar to her, and Harry could tell just from pictures.

But then again, Harry noticed, when Draco had very strong emotions, his eyes flared a deep green. He thought of the girl that Draco had been talking about last night.

Harry felt the need to cry again, and he didn't know why. He wanted the girl to stop appearing in Draco's dreams, to be gone forever. Golden eyes. No. That's wrong.

"Why is he so certain that he loves her?" Harry asked himself aloud. He remembered Draco's words and thought about how much they felt like stabs to his heart. Harry suddenly felt ill, thinking about Draco this way. He was straight…right? Girls were pretty and nice…but…no. Draco was more than that. It was the way he moved and the way he laughed and his smile and everything.

"Oh, God…I can't be gay…" Harry thought aloud again. And then he thought about his dreams and what effects they had on him.

And he realized that he didn't want to end up with someone like Narcissa anyways. Males seemed a lot more appealing. In every aspect.

To a thirteen year old boy, this was very confusing and somehow very clear. He wanted Draco. He set the journal down and rushed out of the room. He scavenged the house for Lucius, and by the time he found him, Harry was exhausted and confused and scared. Lucius seemed to notice.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Lucius asked.

"I…I think I'm gay," Harry admitted right away.

"What makes you think that?"

"The way I think about Draco."

"Which is…?"

"How nice his smile is and how gorgeous he is."

"Well, I don't judge you, but I think others might."

"I know and that's why I'm scared."

"You know he's in love with someone, correct?"

"Yes, he told me about her. _Her_."

"Harry, I'm sorry to tell you that that's what's normal."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," Harry said, shyly now.

Draco wandered into the room. Harry curled up into a little ball in his chair, fighting the urge to sob his heart out.

"Father, what's wrong with Harry?" Draco asked with big eyes.

"Nothing, his theories are getting the best of him, although I think it's just hormones," Lucius responded.

"It's not hormones," Harry interrupted, curling up tighter.

"What's the theory?" Draco asked.

Harry got up and walked away from the room, before he had to answer, and walked to his room, where he stayed curled up for the rest of the day, exploring the room. Around nightfall, Draco walked into his room.

Harry jumped, scared. He hadn't expected Draco to come in.

"Father told me about what you think," Draco said, sitting down on the bed next to Harry.

"I'm sorry, I really am. I shouldn't feel like that. It's wrong, I know."

"It's not wrong to be gay."

"And you're not scared of me, because I…I like you?"

"No. It's a bit strange, I must admit, but I'm not scared," Draco promised.

"Thank you, I guess," Harry said, looking down at his hands in his lap.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Draco asked suddenly, looking at him. "I mean, I could have saved you from hearing about this mystery girl that I've fallen for."

"I…I only figured it out today," Harry disclosed quietly. "But, I must admit, that did sting."

"I'm sorry. I wish I could help you."

"I do too."

"Here, I know," Draco said. He leaned in and pressed his lips against Harry's cheek. Harry felt his cheeks heat up.

Draco then got up and left the room without another word and without looking back.


End file.
